At the Poetry Reading

Katrina Kaye

I notice you
looking at me
across the bar.
We exchange a smile,
and I lower my eyes
to your stare.

It is lifetime since
I washed your
scent from my body,
yet I still shiver
from the remnants of
your touch.

I allow this.

I wonder who notices.
I wonder if they
smell the sex in the air;
if the stain of seduction
is as apparent as the
cigarette smoke which
halos overhead.
Can they tell
I want to touch
you from across the room?

I know you are nothing
more than a two o’clock
storm that flashed through a
New Mexico afternoon drenching me
in an uncontrollable downpour
before passing soundlessly over
the horizon.
I know the monsoons
of summer dry fast
when the sun revives.

Yet, during all the
reading and reciting,
the poetry and music,
the confessions poured across stage
eager for attention,
acknowledgment, acceptance,
I can do nothing but
summon the soft of
your skin under my nails.

“At the Poetry Reading” is previously published on Rabbits for Luck (2016).